


Enter You

by LustOnMyFingers, TheScarletGarden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And a musician, Dany is a very aware hottie, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Hook-Up, Humor, Illustrated, Jon is shy insecure and an oblivious hottie, Jonerys, Lust at First Sight, Modern Westeros, Original Artwork, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, a masterclass in blueballs, and a burlesque dancer, bisexual Dany, hot mess Jon, inspired by the movie Trick (1999), seriously guys it's unresolved don't say we didn't warn you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/pseuds/LustOnMyFingers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScarletGarden/pseuds/TheScarletGarden
Summary: Aspiring musical writer Jon Snow just can't finish his big number. When his mentor suggests he get out from behind his piano and beat writer's block by "grabbing life by the tits", Jon takes the unconventional advice quite literally when on the train ride home from a burlesque show, he crosses paths with one of the dancers and receives a proposition he just can't refuse. When their attempts to find some privacy are thwarted at every turn, what should've been a simple one-night stand becomes something much more complicated.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, other mentioned past relationships
Comments: 83
Kudos: 288





	Enter You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliciutza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciutza/gifts).



> It's been one hell of a year, hasn't it? We hope you have a great birthday despite 2020's best efforts, and we wanted to help our lovely wife celebrate by gifting a fun and lighthearted story to help lift the mood. Thank you for another year full of friendship, fangirling, and laughs (and _maybe_ a little bitching too...) Have a great one, Alice! ♥
> 
> -
> 
> Writing by LustOnMyFingers and TheScarletGarden.  
> Moodboard by LustOnMyFingers.  
> Gorgeous artwork by [Dragon_and_Direwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_and_Direwolf/).

They were _right_ there. Just dangling on the tip of his tongue. He could _feel_ them.

The damned missing lyrics.

No matter how many times he struck the keys, the words _just_ wouldn’t come. Roughly ten syllables were all that stood in his way, now. Five words, he guessed, maybe six—that was all he needed to _finally_ finish the second act.

“Well? Any progress?”

Jon nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. “For fuck’s _sake_ , Sansa,” he scolded. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I wasn’t exactly quiet coming in,” his cousin laughed, patting Ghost’s head before she unceremoniously tossed her keys on the table. “I swear, anyone who wants your attention these days would have to steal that piano right out from under your nose.”

“Now _that..._ might just work,” he grumbled.

Ever since moving to King’s Landing, Jon Snow spent nearly every moment of his free time hunched over his piano, struggling to write his musical—at least when his cousin wasn’t butting in and pestering him. Sansa practiced little in the way of boundaries since following him south to chase after the many opportunities the city provided to musical theater aspirants, such as they were. And if their dreams unfolded as planned, Sansa would go on to star in his musical debut.

However, their dreams of glory still seemed so far out of reach—especially as the pair sat in his frighteningly tiny studio apartment.

“By the way you’re pinching the bridge of your nose, I’m going to guess that’s a ‘no’?”

Jon dropped his hand at the accusation, nodding his head in shame. “What are you here for, anyway?”

“I left my phone charger.”

“Great. How about you grab it and get out of my hair?”

Sansa gave a dismissive smile. “Listen, I’ve got rehearsal soon. It’d do you some good to get out of this stuffy room and walk me there. After all, you might just run into Oberyn…”

Jon scowled. He knew what she was getting at. Days ago, he sent along a recording of the unfinished song that had been giving him so much grief lately—and he’d had yet to hear any critique from his mentor—good or bad.

“You can’t hide from him forever.”

“I’m not _hiding_ from him, Sansa. We just... haven’t spoken since.”

“And it’s eating away at you.”

Jon sighed. “What if he doesn’t like it?” he finally asked.

His mentor was notoriously hard to impress, but Jon was determined. And if he could manage to sway Oberyn Martell, there was a very real possibility he’d get the help he needed to finally secure a producer for his musical.

Sansa bit her lip, her gaze falling on the music stand, where Jon’s attempts at penning the missing lyrics had been either stricken through, scribbled over, or erased.

“Oh, _Jon_ ,” she finally cooed, stepping forward to place a hand on his back. “It’s great, truly. Still a bit… _raw_ , maybe, but I’m positive that with Oberyn’s help, you can shape it into the masterpiece it’s meant to be.”

Despite her words of encouragement, his shoulders sagged. Maybe he _was_ in hiding like she’d accused—afraid of facing any disparagement.

Almost as a direct counter to his sudden slump in demeanor, Sansa perked up.

“Come on, then.”

Not taking no for an answer, she grabbed hold of his wrist and literally yanked him off of his piano bench in an effort to drag him towards the door.

“ _Hey_!” Jon protested. “At least let me grab my glasses!”

. . .

For the full duration of their walk, his cousin blathered on and on—seemingly satisfied every time Jon nodded along with her story, only pretending to listen. In truth, his mind was elsewhere. He was a bundle of nerves, dreading the prospect of finally hearing an honest opinion of his work—other than Sansa’s, anyway.

As luck would have it, Oberyn popped out of the wide glass doors of the theater as they drew closer. He was surrounded by a small entourage of people in eccentric outfits, as it often happened. A woman with long purple locks said something that caused him to let out a loud peal of laughter, throwing back his head in amusement.

Sansa gave Jon’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she wandered inside, leaving him to wait, alone and awkward, as the others began to disperse.

When he finally worked up the nerve to approach, someone cut him off to offer Oberyn a flyer. Jon stuffed his hands into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting.

Oberyn skimmed the paper before finally lifting his eyes. When he spotted Jon, his face lit right up. “Jonno!”

“Do you have a minute to talk?”

“For you?” His eyes swept over Jon as he flashed a grin. “I’ve got several.”

Jon flushed, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “What did you think?” he asked. “About my song?”

“I really liked it!”

Jon waited for a moment, hoping Oberyn would expand on his thoughts. “I sense there’s a but?”

“ _But…_ ” he continued, “Well... you don’t suppose the princess would _really_ behave that way, do you?”

“Why not?” Jon challenged. “I mean, it’s a _musical_. People don’t walk down the street bursting into song and dance, do they?”

“It’s important that the writer _always_ tell the truth, Jon. Regardless of the medium he chooses. Have you truly captured that feeling you get after a _really_ great kiss? It should be exciting. Terrifying. _Sexy_.” He swayed his hips suggestively, giving Jon a little wink. “The second act needs a climax. Maybe if they fell in love…”

“But they’ve only just met!” Jon interrupted. “I can’t have them fall in love on the first night. It wouldn’t be believable!”

“Not if _you_ don’t believe it.”

He knew Oberyn had a point, yet he couldn’t help but to pout.

“Listen to me, Jon. Come out from behind your piano,” Oberyn gestured generally toward the city, “And get out there and grab life by the tits!”

Jon blinked. “Sorry, _what_?”

“Be spontaneous! Take chances! Shoot for the unexpected. It’s the only way to seduce your muse.” Oberyn wiggled his eyebrows to help underline his statement. Jon rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of the ambiguous advice.

“Here.” The older man clapped a hand against Jon’s chest, pinning the flyer to his shirt. “You need this more than I do.” Sansa re-appeared outside with a gaggle of her co-stars just as Jon grabbed it. Somewhere in the scuffle, their mentor was whisked away.

“So, what did he say?” she asked, though her blue eyes filled with curiosity once she noticed what was in his hands. “What’s that?”

“Just something Oberyn gave me,” he shrugged.

Quirking a brow, she ripped the sheet of paper right out of his grasp to better inspect it.

“Some sleazy burlesque bar, I see. How _typical_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes and crumpling the paper. “Anyway, I put a ticket under your name for the show tonight. Don’t let them intimidate you into paying.”

Jon gave a distracted nod, attempting to inspect the flyer himself once she handed it back to him.

“So you’ll be there?” Sansa asked.

“Of course. Not like I can go home…”

“Theon kicked you out again?”

“Yep. He needs the apartment tonight,” Jon sighed.

“ _Ugh_ ,” she groaned. “He _always_ needs the apartment.”

“Must be nice,” Jon muttered, feeling a small sting of resentment.

“Sansa!”

He lifted his eyes, spotting the source of the shouting—his cousin’s roommate and co-star, Jeyne, standing just outside the theater, arms folded and looking rather annoyed at her absence.

“I’d better get inside,” she moaned.

“Go,” Jon said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

With a final nod, she slipped away. As he headed back toward home, he finally gave the flyer a proper look.

_Fantasy Friday Burlesque Fest_

_Dragons and Witches and Butterflies—Oh my!_

_Featuring Melisma Blaze, Missi Vixen, and Dany D. Luxe_

_Join us at the Maidenvault in Downtown King’s Landing_

_Limited seats—8pm_

Admittedly drawn to the shapely black silhouettes, he considered it. Burlesque wasn’t really Jon’s _‘thing’_. Though, it could be, for all he knew, since he’d never actually attended a show before. It was just another form of theater, of performance, wasn’t it? _I do like dragons_ , he reminded himself.

Realizing he had a few hours to kill before Sansa’s show anyway, he turned on his heel and changed course—this time heading _away_ from home, instead.

. . .

As Jon approached the Maidenvault, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Sansa had the right of it. The old theater looked quite _sleazy_ at first glance, with its dim neon sign lined with flickering yellow lightbulbs over a pair of rickety wooden doors.

Stopping a few paces from the entrance, he pulled the crumpled flyer from his pocket, giving it a once-over, frowning in consideration. Was it even worth the cover fee? He figured he should be taking advantage of what little time he had to work on his lyrics before Theon came home and kicked him out of the apartment. And _yet_ …

He shrugged, sighing under his breath as he approached closer. Oberyn was probably right. How was he supposed to find inspiration if all he did was stare at the underwhelming lyrics scribbled on his sheet music?

Begrudgingly, he paid admission and made his way inside the historic theater, which had since been converted into a nightclub of sorts. He observed his surroundings as he beelined for the bar to get a beer: the dark walls were partially covered with heavy red drapes, and dim yellow lights illuminated leather couches and small wooden tables. The vintage decor looked tacky and dated, and if truth be told, it looked an awful lot like they had tried desperately to make the place look expensive and completely missed the mark.

Posters of half-naked pin-ups littered the wall behind the bar, peeking out from between bottles of liquor. Jon was just about to reach for the oak counter, distracted by the buxom illustrations, when he suddenly became aware of the surprising amount of half-naked women surrounding him _in the flesh_. Waitresses, he surmised, as they weaved through the crowd, expertly balancing trays of full glasses. He just wasn’t used to seeing strange women just milling about with so much uncovered skin.

_Damn you, Oberyn._

When one of the waitresses moved so close to him that her breasts brushed against his shoulder, he decided he needed a whiskey instead.

Feeling miles away from his comfort zone, Jon nursed his drink at the bar, hoping the alcohol might help put him more at ease. Just as he downed the last of it, the background music faded and the lights dimmed further—signaling that the first exhibition was about to begin.

He turned to see a scantily-clad woman walking across the stage with a lit torch, placing it in a holder before disappearing behind a curtain.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd in anticipation. Like zombies, the other patrons moved forward en masse, filling every remaining seat. Jon was no better, perhaps, managing to snag a stool right beside the front of the stage—he might as well get his money’s worth.

A figure appeared before the crowd, backlit by a soft red light. Even though the woman was little more than a silhouette, she had already captured his full attention.

The beat of a familiar jazz song kicked in and the silhouette began to sway, the overhead lights trickling over her like rain, finally revealing her face as she held what looked like a pair of dark wing-shaped fans—concealing most of the body that lay underneath. She had big, bright eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. And her lips, plump and red. A total stunner.

_Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care_

A light fog rolled over the stage to help set the mood. She flapped one wing after the other, giving a hint of what was underneath—at least to anyone looking hard enough. And Jon sure was. Long silver curls bounced over a bra made of metal scales, waist cinched with a black corset, a pair of panties that covered only what was legally required.

_When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that’s so hard to bear_

He sank into his seat as she sauntered across the stage—hips swinging and wings whirling. Jon could hardly decide what exactly to focus on.

His gaze dropped down to her stockinged legs as she tucked the wings behind her back, one heel marching in front of the other toward him. When his eyes traveled up the length of her body, he could almost swear she was looking straight at him.

_You give me fever_

He scratched at the skin just below his collar, averting his eyes from her in abashment, at least until she spun again.

_When you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight_

The dragon flapped her wings to tease a peek of her bottom—so close she managed to fan some of the fog in Jon’s direction. His eyes widened when another flap revealed two bare cheeks with nothing but a small string between them.

_Fever in the morning, fever all through the night_

One foot kicked forward, sending a black patent heel into the backdrop curtain. The second shoe went flying next, earning a round of whooping from the onlookers.

_Sun lights up the daytime_

She bent in half, taking a stocking down in her descent.

_Moon lights up the night_

As she began to peel the second hose away, Jon managed to catch an upside-down smirk between her calves.

_I light up when you call my name_

Regardless of whether the wink that followed was meant for him, his cheeks flushed hotter. Though he could feel his heart racing, he tried his best to look casual, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

_And you know I’m going to treat you right_

She straightened out, turning to face the enthusiastic crowd as she tugged at the laces of her corset. The garment fell away as she twirled, leaving her in just a bra and g-string.

Jon’s eyes followed intently as she danced, admiring everything he could—her confidence, her cheeky smile, and when she turned her back to the audience again—the dusting of peach fuzz on her bum, and the way it jiggled with her every step. The flap of a wing soon blocked the enticing view, her hand reaching up to unclasp her bra.

The bar erupted in another round of cheers as she teased the straps, letting them fall down her arms. She looked over her shoulder, waggling her eyebrows as the metal bra fell and hit the ground with a soft clink.

Jon’s eyes devoured every last bit of bare skin as she flounced away. From the back of the stage, she retrieved the lit torch, flipping it over and taking a long drag from the unlit end before returning it to its holder.

She spun to reveal two glittering heart-shaped pasties just large enough to cover her nipples. After rubbing her fingers together, she managed to pluck a small flame from the torch and brought it to her lips—breathing fire just like a dragon.

_Fever!_

The crowd roared.

_Till you sizzle_

Throwing her arms up as the audience erupted with whoops and applause, she rewarded the support with a shimmy.

_What a lovely way to burn_

Mesmerized by her bouncing breasts, Jon couldn’t help but stare.

Only when she bent to take a bow did he fully snap out of it. The dragon girl waved farewell, flapping her wings as she walked off the stage and ‘flew’ away.

A voice crackled over the speaker, “Talk about _hot stuff_! Give it up for Dany D. Luxe!”

Much too shy to hoot or holler, Jon just put his hands together to clap.

As the lights in the theater brightened between acts, Jon silently berated himself for getting so flustered. _It’s not like you’ve never seen a naked woman, you fool_. And yet, he found himself scanning the heavy red drapes, hoping to catch one more glimpse of the dragon beauty backstage.

Whatever shame he might’ve felt was swapped for a deep sense of relief the instant Jon spotted her again. She had emerged stage right, stepping down to join the crowd. Somewhat unfortunately, she had covered back up—donning her corset, stockings, and a dazzling smile to boot. She sauntered amidst the rows of patrons, swaying an upside-down top hat back and forth as a sea of hands dropped tips inside of it.

That is—until one of those hands shot forward to cop a feel of her bum. On instinct, Jon went rigid, hackles raising. He was already half-out of his seat to intervene when she bent over the handsy fucker, pinning him on the seat with a stare so icy it made even Jon freeze back into place.

“The next time you lay a hand on me will be the last time you have hands,” she spat.

The man’s throat bobbed in apprehension as he cowered away from her, visibly flinching. Of course she didn’t need Jon’s help. She was a dragon, after all. As such, there was a fire in her—the kind that stoked the bold confidence that always drove him crazy in a woman.

Her menacing scowl was gone by the time she spun away from the creep, unruffled and beaming as she resumed collecting tips. So preoccupied he was with gawking, that he nearly failed to notice she was only a few paces from him now. Panicked, Jon dug into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and rifling through it. He managed to find a few singles—it was all the cash he had on him.

Caught off-guard by the immediate eye contact he was met with the instant he looked up—Jon dropped the meager tip into the hat and froze. She eyed him with a knowing smirk. Paralyzed, all he could do was beg himself to speak—to compliment her act, her wings, the way she handled that loser, fuck, _anything!_

Instead, darkness descended once again as the room transitioned to the next exhibition.

Jon watched in silent horror as she spun again and began to walk away from him. Even as another performer took the stage, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blonde—following her enticing figure until she disappeared behind the drapes again.

Reluctantly, he settled back into his seat. And even as another impossibly gorgeous woman flounced about, waving a pair of impressive golden butterfly wings—Jon just couldn’t focus. The dragon was as clear in his mind’s eye as if she were right in front of him. He stood alert every time the drapes at the edge of the stage fluttered, just hoping she would reappear—but alas, his hopes were ignored.

After his second whiskey, Jon grew restless. The old theater was uncomfortably hot, the air stale and stifling. When it became apparent that he was no longer enjoying himself, he let out a sigh, deciding there was no use in staying any longer. After glancing at his watch, Jon guessed it would still be a couple of hours before Theon kicked him out for the night. If he headed home now, he’d get to work a little more on his music before Sansa’s play.

Outside, the fresh evening air was a welcome respite against his hot skin. Jon took a deep breath before heading towards the subway.

As luck would have it, his train arrived just as he approached the platform. Inside, the wagon was mostly empty, only a couple other people besides him.

The doors were just about to close when a flash of red and silver caught his eye. He turned to see the performer from the Maidenvault step inside the car, wearing a red dress underneath a black trench coat. Their eyes met briefly as she plopped down onto a seat across from him. As nonchalantly as he could, Jon stole glances as she settled in and leaned her head against the window—the slight upturn of her mouth looking an awful lot like a smirk as she closed her eyes.

Even in the harsh lights of the subway, she was breathtaking. Jon couldn’t help but stare as she dozed off—observing the way her red lips trembled with every exhale, the shadows her thick lashes cast over her porcelain cheeks. Long, silver waves spilled over her shoulders. What he wouldn’t give to dip his hands in her tresses...

Trying uselessly to stop ogling her, Jon chastised himself when his gaze drifted lower, trailing over her bare legs and admiring the smooth skin over toned, lean muscles. Unlike most women he’d casually check out, though, Jon already knew what nearly every inch of her body looked like underneath her clothes.

She looked so small now, curled up in her seat. Were it not for the dark feathers of her costume peeking out from the bag slung over her shoulder—she _might’ve_ been approachable.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open.

Jon immediately looked away, trying his best to seem as though he _hadn’t_ just been caught staring like a total creep. Though he’d lost all track of whether or not his stop was next, he stood and walked toward the exit.

As the train ground to a halt, he took one last look at the blonde. She didn’t appear unsettled at all. In fact, she was _smiling_.

Panicked, Jon turned and walked straight off the subway.

Managing to make it only a few steps before he heard the doors chime again, Jon spun to see the blonde stepping off of the train and walking straight towards him. His heart began to pound as she approached, eyeing him much like he had eyed her mere moments ago.

“You live around here?”

He could only blink in surprise. It sounded an _awful_ lot like a proposition. After a moment, he finally managed to reply. “Aye... But my roommate will be back in about two hours.”

“You can do a lot in two hours,” she said, her tone so suggestive that it made Jon wonder whether it was all a trick of his mind. _Gods, I don’t even know her name_.

He let out a tense laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hi, um. I’m Jon.”

“Dany,” she replied. “My name’s Dany.”

She just stared, perhaps expecting him to say something. But Jon didn’t know _what_ to say—only further driving home the fact that they were total strangers.

“Wow, this is really awkward,” he finally said, the words drowned in the noise of a train roaring beside them.

Whether she was ignoring his observation or simply couldn’t hear it, he didn’t know. Instead, she nodded towards the exit and asked, “Which way?”

. . .

Unsure, exactly, what he should’ve expected _—_ the walk back to his place proved even _more_ awkward. Dany didn’t say much, but he supposed conversation just wasn’t what she had in mind. Instead, she just trailed closely behind him, only bothering to pipe up once they were several flights up inside his building.

“Which floor are you on?”

“Uh, seven,” he said. “Just one more flight to go.”

Once they had finally reached his door, he fumbled with his keys.

“This is it,” he assured her, fighting with the notoriously difficult lock until the front door swung open.

Just inside his apartment, Sansa gasped, placing a hand over her heart in shock.

“Jon!” she shrieked. “You scared me!”

“ _Sansa!_ What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, Ghost barreled towards the door, tail wagging like crazy. He almost knocked Jon on the floor, as it always happened when he came home. When the canine’s attention shifted to the stranger at his side, Jon threw Dany an apologetic look. _Shit, I should have warned her._ “I hope you’re not allergic…”

Dany shrugged, even as she closed her coat tightly around herself as the unruly dog sniffed all around her.

“Well, I texted you,” Sansa explained as if nothing was amiss. “I was in the neighborhood and I needed to charge my phone. I left my charger here, remember?” She seemed to notice Dany for the first time, her gaze sweeping over the sultry blonde and eyeing the feathers peeking from her bag. “What are you guys up to?”

“Just, uh... _hanging out_ ,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” Sansa exhaled, lifting her eyebrows in surprise as she finally caught Jon’s meaning. “ _Oh_. Well, I need to get to my show soon anyway.”

“Is this a bad idea?” Dany asked, sounding suddenly unsure.

“No, no! It’s a good idea. _Really_ ,” Jon insisted.

“I’m Sansa,” his cousin said, extending her hand for a shake.

“Dany.” After they awkwardly shook hands, Sansa stepped aside to let them in, closing the door behind her. Ghost had bounded by his mattress, munching happily on a toy now that his dad was home.

“We don’t have any chairs, so…” Jon trailed off. _Gods_. He seriously hoped she wasn’t regretting her proposition, by now. Dany seemed nonplussed, though, sitting on his bed, glancing around the room. A tiny smile spread on her face when her gaze landed on Ghost, sprawled on the floor and gnawing away.

Sansa sat gingerly on Theon’s bed, right across from Dany. Jon had to suppress a groan upon realizing his cousin hadn’t yet stopped staring at her—eyes scanning nearly every inch of her body. Unsurprisingly, Dany noticed it too, fidgeting with the buttons of her coat under Sansa’s heavy gaze.

“Maybe I should go,” she said after a few moments of awkward silence.

“No. No! It won’t be much longer,” Jon assured her, holding out his hands in an attempt to thwart her doubts. “Sansa, what’s your phone at now?”

“Fifteen percent.”

 _Ugh_.

“You mentioned a show...?” Dany asked, although Jon supposed it was only to diffuse the sudden, weird tension.

“Oh, yes! I’m in an all-female production of Salome set in a women’s penitentiary.”

“That sounds great.”

His cousin blinked. “Really? There’s a performance tonight at midnight! Maybe you could come with Jon?”

“Maybe, uh…” Dany trailed off, clearly engaging with Sansa just to be polite. She pointed between him and his cousin before changing the subject with another question, “You two are roommates?”

“No,” Jon immediately replied.

“But we’re _very_ close.”

“Cousins, actually. I live with this guy, Theon.”

“Jon’s writing a part for me in his musical! The princess. It’s actually a _very_ big part,” she bragged. “I sing all of his songs. He’s a wonderful writer! So very talented...”

Something about his cousin’s verbal outpouring of support made him flush. He turned to Dany to downplay it. “I don’t know how I feel about musicals lately. They’re too... _contrived,”_ he explained with a shrug. “And phony and campy and stupid. I don’t even know why I write them.”

“You write songs?” Dany asked, perking up. “And the music too?”

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah...”

“And you play the piano?”

“Let’s do a number!” Sansa suddenly beamed, clapping her hands.

“No!”

“Come on! Just one. She’ll _love_ it,” she insisted before turning to Dany. “His songs are fantastic!”

“Sansa, I _really_ don’t think Dany’s interested in-.”

“Do one!” Dany urged.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah! I’d love to hear one.”

“See?” Sansa gave him a little push towards the piano.

“All right. One number and then you’re _leaving_.”

“Of course,” his cousin agreed. “I have to get to my show anyway.”

Sighing, Jon sat down on his stool and situated himself before pressing the keys, the music he’d been playing constantly for months flowing easily from his fingers. Sansa stood beside the piano, her bright voice filling the small room.

 _“I’ve heard that all the world’s a stage, and we are only players acting out some predetermined page. But it is lonely as can be, with nobody opposite me,”_ she sang. _“Then... Enter you, voila it’s showtime!_ Gods, Ghost, _no!_ Down, boy!” Sansa scolded the dog when he started howling along, turning the solo into a duet.

“You sing,” Dany noted as soon as the howling stopped.

“I sing his songs.” Sansa’s over-eager tone tended to climb the scale by a note or two whenever she saw an opportunity to talk about her work.

“But you were singing _with_ her,” Dany pressed, looking pointedly at Jon.

“Was I? Well, Sansa usually sings…”

“I’ll sing along with you.”

“Let him do it alone,” Dany objected, earning a pouty frown from the other girl.

“Um, okay,” Jon stuttered. Pushing through his nervousness, he turned back to the piano, resuming the song about where Sansa left off.

“ _Enter you—voila it’s showtime! You brought the house down with a dance and a dum-ditty. Enter you—in less than no time…_ ” he paused mid-song to explain, “I uh—still have to figure out this part…” Jon went on, awkwardly striking the keys without accompanying lyrics until he hit the next verse. “ _Up went the curtai-_ ,” he sang, just as his phone began to vibrate against his thigh.

He jumped up from the piano in sudden relief, retrieving it from his pocket.

“Oberyn,” he answered.

“Jonno! You home?”

“Yeah…”

“You shouldn’t be. Look, I’m at this piano bar down in Flea Bottom. Get out of there and join me!”

“I can’t,” he said, feigning disappointment. “Sansa’s show opens tonight.”

“ _Right_. So swing by afterward,” he insisted. “I’ll be here late. You know where Nightsong is?”

“Around the corner from that one play you took me to... the one about the woods witch who could tell the future?”

“That’s the one. See you then, Jonno!” Oberyn ended the call before Jon had the chance to decline.

When he turned back to look at Dany, she was smiling at him. “You should sing more.”

“Thanks.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose, glancing uncomfortably at his cousin. “Sansa, I think your phone is charged now.”

“It’s at twenty-five percent.”

“That’s plenty.”

Lips puckered in annoyance, she unplugged her phone and slipped it into her purse. “Can you see me out?”

Huffing, he complied and followed her outside. The door closed behind them, giving them privacy in the hallway. Jon folded his arms, his impatience clear as he waited.

“So…” Sansa gestured, likely awaiting a proper explanation for his spontaneous visitor.

“She’s a _burlesque_ dancer,” Jon explained, unable to hide his excitement.

His cousin rolled her eyes, looking rather unimpressed. “Well, I’m going. Your name is on the comp list. You’ll be there, right?”

“Aye,” he assured her. “Besides, Theon will be back soon.”

“One or two?”

“What?”

“Tickets!” Sansa nodded toward his door. “Is the burlesque girl coming to my show or what?”

“I don’t know,” he grinned, heart fluttering as he imagined showing up with Dany on his arm. Only then did he remember that the gorgeous girl inside his apartment was there for one specific reason. “Uh... better put me down for one.”

“See you there,” she waved, heading down the stairs not a moment too soon.

Once she was out of sight, Jon rushed back inside his apartment, tingling with anticipation now that the frustration of the past half hour was ebbing away.

“ _Finally_ ,” he muttered under his breath, twisting the lock shut behind him.

When he turned, he was shocked to see Dany standing in the center of the room, coat already discarded, pulling her dress right over her head.

She had nothing on underneath.

Dumbstruck, Jon stared forward, taking in the sight of her perfect body as she stood confidently with her legs apart to give him a deliberate peek between them. Considering the scant costume she wore on stage, he wasn’t shocked to discover that she was completely bare and smooth—but the view stunned him all the same. He licked his lips and hit the lightswitch, hoping the darkness might ease his nerves.

The moon casted a blade of silver across his bed, illuminating Dany like a stage light as she laid down, all soft curves and smooth skin bared to his hungry gaze. A hand drifted slowly up her body to her lips as she smirked, curling a finger to beckon him over.

All blood rushed away from his brain at the sight, leaving him dizzy. Gaping like a fool, Jon lumbered over to her, unable to believe his luck that this gorgeous woman was sprawled on _his_ bed, naked and eager for _him_ to join her.

There were few times Jon felt as awkward as when he sat beside her—the intensity of her constant eye contact putting him ill at ease. He wanted nothing more than to touch her—and by the looks of things, that’s exactly what she wanted, too. But he’d never done anything like this—not with a total stranger, at least—and he had no idea where to begin. When he opted to fold his hands in his lap rather than touch her, she laughed softly.

“You’re really cute.”

Unsure how to take the comment, Jon frowned, shifting uncomfortably. It was then that Dany grabbed his wrist and manually guided him to her body. She pressed his palm down onto her chest, trailing his trembling hand down the soft skin between her breasts and slowly over her abdomen. When his fingertips brushed just past her navel, she rolled her hips in anticipation.

 _Gods_.

Jon yanked his hand away, suddenly panicked.

“M-maybe if I played a song, I could relax.”

Before she even had time to react, he was on his feet and traipsing toward his piano. Completely mortified, Jon took a seat. He didn’t _dare_ look at her. But as he stroked the keys, he could see her in his periphery, naked and utterly bewildered.

As she had every reason to be.

Jon took a deep breath as he gracelessly performed an impromptu song. Dany endured his awful and distracted playing for a moment before she, too, was on her feet to join him.

Standing just behind him, her fingers dipped softly in his hair, combing the curls away from his face in a way that Jon found surprisingly soothing. She was so close to him he could feel her bare skin brush against his clothes. Slowly, she pulled his glasses off, placing them carefully on the piano before she resumed her ministrations.

She began to rub his shoulders, pressing her thumbs into his neck and kneading the muscles there. And for a moment, it worked—Jon finally began to relax.

At least until her hands traveled lower, plucking open the buttons on his shirt and slipping beneath the fabric to caress his skin. The song came to an abrupt halt as he let out a shuddering exhale, quickly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before tearing it off completely, and pulling his undershirt up and over his head.

Dany wasted no time in taking advantage of the freshly-exposed skin, her warm hands on him in seconds, smoothing over every last inch of his chest and back. Jon closed his eyes, the rhythm of his breath as uneven as his playing as he fumbled through his song.

“What if,” he stammered, “You came over here?”

“Where?”

“Down here,” he said, nodding towards his piano.

“What do you want me to do down there?” she coyly asked.

“I’ve... always wanted someone to go down on me while I was playing the piano.” Upon realizing the words actually left his mouth, Jon stopped playing at once to brace the edge of his instrument. “ _Gods_ , I can’t believe I just told you that,” he breathed. “I’ve never told _anyone_ that.”

Dany stopped stroking his shoulders.

Just as he began crafting an apology in his head, she cleared her throat behind him.

“Wanna do it?”

Jon’s heart skipped a beat. He took two deep breaths before managing a coherent reply.

“I’ll just scoot out so you can get in?”

He stood as Dany stepped in front of him. They locked eyes as she lowered herself onto her knees. His heart began to pound so hard she must’ve heard it, too.

She crawled underneath his piano. Ghost wandered over, nudging Jon’s thigh as he unbuckled his belt.

“Go lay down, boy,” he commanded.

The dog didn’t relent, bumping his snout against Jon insistently.

“Not now, Ghost,” he scolded. “ _Go!_ ”

Ghost chuffed in protest, finally wandering away.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized to Dany, who had been waiting patiently with her elbows propped up on his piano bench.

She moved out of the way as he finished pulling down his pants. In just his socks and boxer-briefs, Jon took his seat again. He looked down at Dany crouched in the shadows, noticing the awkward angle of her neck. He cringed.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though there was something about her tone that unnerved him.

“I don’t know what to play,” he admitted.

“Does it matter?”

Shaking his head in agreement, Jon moved his fingers across the keys, playing the first song from memory that popped into his head. Again, Dany’s hands went wandering—squeezing his calves before making their way up to his thighs. Jon began to squirm—all of his muscles tensing, her touch teetering on the edge of pleasure and torment.

A warm palm slid softly up the length of his shaft, his cock pulsing under her touch. He grunted and wriggled in his seat as she started stroking him over the fabric.

Jon sucked in a shaky breath when Dany slipped her fingers inside the waistband to pull down his underwear. Once she’d exposed the head of his cock, he felt the warm, wet squish of her tongue, his body shuddering as it went swirling.

The only downside to his fantasy finally coming true was that, with the piano blocking his view, he couldn’t see the way her red lips stretched around his cock. Well, _that_ , and the fact he could no longer play worth a damn, totally enveloped, body and mind, in the heat of her mouth.

Squirming, Jon tried his best to concentrate as she began to suck, but the noise coming from his piano became positively grating the further he slipped into euphoria.

Somewhere in the midst of his arrhythmic playing, he heard it—the sound of a key unlocking the front door.

“ _Shit!_ ” he spat, reaching down to retrieve his dress shirt and tossing it to Dany. “Get dressed!”

As quickly as he could, Jon pulled up his boxer-briefs, using his crumpled-up undershirt to cover his bulging erection. Thankfully, Dany had just managed to cover her body as Theon and his girlfriend, Ros, walked in. In a poor attempt to act as normally as possible, Jon sat back down at his piano and began to play a showtune as his roommate switched the light on.

“What’s going on here?” Theon asked, grabbing Ros by the waist. “I need the apartment.”

“Dany wanted to hear my songs,” Jon explained as the girl beside him held his shirt closed around her body, her bare legs on full display. “You’re early. And it so happens that _I_ need the apartment.”

“I told you I needed the place tonight,” he said dismissively, pulling his girlfriend in for a kiss.

“Can we talk about this privately?”

Jon stood and walked into the bathroom—the only other room in their studio apartment. Theon finally peeled himself from Ros and followed Jon inside. He closed the door so they were alone.

“Just give me one hour. _Please_ ,” Jon begged. “I’m really, _really_ into her.”

Theon folded his arms. “What am I supposed to do for an hour?”

“I don’t know, _anything_ else! It’s not like I get to do this sort of thing very often,” he griped. “Meeting new people is hard for me.”

“Can’t you just do it tomorrow?”

“You can’t ask a one-night stand to come back _tomorrow night!_ ”

Judging by the way he could hear Dany dressing just outside the paper-thin door, Jon guessed she could hear his every word. He didn’t care. After tonight, they’d probably never see each other again. He was done being timid.

Judging by Theon’s scowl, Jon knew it was an argument he was going to lose. After all, it was technically his apartment—he only agreed to let Jon move in as a favor to his best friend, Jon’s cousin and Sansa’s older brother, Robb. The pair clashed all the time, but Jon put up with most of it because it was one of the few places that accepted dogs—and on a normal day, that was his most important consideration.

Tonight, however, Jon wanted Dany.

“Let’s flip for it.”

Though Theon scoffed at the suggestion, he dug into his pocket for a coin.

“Heads,” Jon said as his roommate tossed it into the air. Panicking, Jon changed his answer as the coin began to fall. “No, tails!”

He watched in horror as it landed in Theon’s palm. Together they looked down at the result. Theon began to smile.

_Fuck._

. . .

 _I really need to find a new place_ , Jon thought, brooding on the stoop of his apartment building like the loser he was. It wouldn’t be easy, not with his meager paycheck, but he really had no business bringing a girl home when he didn’t even have a proper bedroom of his own.

It baffled him that Dany had stuck around, sitting so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. As beautiful as she was, he had no doubt she could have any man she’d like—yet, for reasons he’d never fully understand, she’d chosen _him_.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, he knew, and he wasn’t ready to squander it just yet. It was then Jon realized there might be an easy solution for their... _dilemma_. He perked up, turning to Dany. “Where do _you_ live?”

“Down by River Row,” she answered. “But let’s not go all the way out there.”

“Oh…” Her dismissive tone had deflated him. “You have a boyfriend or something?”

“No, no boyfriend,” she insisted. “It’s just… I rent a room from this guy, and he doesn’t like me bringing strange men back to his place.”

“If you’re not into this, I understand.”

“No, I am. I _am_ ,” she repeated, sounding almost like she had to convince herself.

“Well, what about Mad Crow?”

She turned to him, unimpressed. “What do we want to go to a bar for?”

“ _Right_. I usually don’t go to bars. I mean, I did tonight... but typically I don’t. Not since the last time my ex-girlfriend dragged me to a pub, I reckon. It was never really my scene, you know, drinking beer, watching football and all that... but she lived for it. She was a stereotypical Northern girl, really. Even her accent was thicker than mine, if you can imagine it. I always go crazy for a girl with a real thick Northern accent,” he gushed.

Dany sighed, pushing herself up from their perch on the steps. It was then that Jon realized his verbal vomit had put her off.

“Well, Jon. Maybe I should get going.”

“No! Wait…”

Jon fell silent when he heard footsteps approaching from down the narrow street. A man about their age passed by, tall and blonde and the kind that exuded all the confidence that Jon lacked. He didn’t miss the not-so-subtle leer that the stranger threw at Dany, eyeing her up like she was the sweetest of desserts.

Hoping that she hadn’t noticed it, too, Jon panicked and hopped to his feet. “Wait,” he begged, scouring his mind for a solution— _any_ solution. And finally, he found one. “There’s this guy, he runs my writer’s workshop. I think there might be a chance we could go to his place…”

 _It was his idea in the first place_ , Jon tried to justify it internally.

That seemed to appease her, as her slight frown turned once again into a smile. Jon fought the urge to fidget under her heated gaze as it swept over him, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“That’s great. Wanna call him?”

Knowing she was still on board, Jon refused to waste another second fretting, pulling his phone from his pocket to dial Oberyn instead.

No answer. He tried twice more—straight to voicemail.

“No luck?”

Jon shook his head. “He’s not picking up. But I know where he’s at. A piano bar a few blocks from here.”

“Do you mean Nightsong?”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah!” Dany grinned. “Let’s go.”

On the short walk through his neighborhood, Jon let Dany do the talking, intently listening as she recounted the days she used to frequent Nightsong. Unlike her friends at the time, she liked going for the music rather than to drink. She hadn’t gone since growing apart from her old crowd, she explained, and was curious to see the old haunt again.

Contrary to the Maidenvault, Nightsong actually achieved the illusion of class despite its location in Flea Bottom. It was narrow inside, lit by pink and purple neon lights throughout. A piano sat beyond a wall of mirrors that reflected the bar, making the establishment appear twice as large at first glance.

Jon spotted Oberyn straight away—his flashy red jacket unmistakable as he mingled with his usual flock of attractive cohorts at the bar. Luckily, several of the adjacent tables were empty, and Jon gestured for Dany to take a seat while he approached to ask the dreaded question alone.

After downing the last of his shot, Oberyn looked up, clapping his hands together in delight upon recognizing his favorite protege.

“Jonno!” he called, gesturing Jon over. “Come! Join us.”

Sliding his hands into his pockets as he made his way toward the bar, Jon stood by while his mentor gestured to the bartender for another shot, his stomach swirling with sudden anxiety.

“Actually,” Jon blurted, “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Shoot,” Oberyn said, eyes dragging over him.

“ _Alone_ ,” he pressed.

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder to escort him just out of range of the others.

“If this makes me seem really desperate, it’s only because I am. It’s a long and pathetic story that you don’t want to hear, but…”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Jonno,” Oberyn laughed as the bartender slammed a shot glass down on the bar in front of him. “I _definitely_ want to hear this story, whatever it is.”

“I met this girl tonight, and we…” Jon trailed off, unsure, exactly, how to frame it. “ _Well_ , we don’t have a place to _go_. If you know what I mean.”

Oberyn lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Where is she?”

Jon nodded toward the table where the blonde sat conspicuously alone as she waited.

His mentor gasped in shock. “She is _exquisite_!”

“Aye,” Jon agreed, feeling smug as he bragged, “She’s a _burlesque_ dancer.”

Dany happened to look up as Oberyn waved. Awkwardly, she returned the gesture.

“I can’t believe I’m asking you this…”

“What?” Oberyn asked, distracted as he continued checking her out.

“You’ve got your place to yourself now, right?”

Immediately catching his drift, Oberyn turned to Jon. “You tramp!” he laughed, giving his chest a playful slap. “Of course you can use my place to hook up. _Someone_ should… Just promise me you won’t break anything, all right?”

As Jon gave what might’ve been his most enthusiastic nod ever, Oberyn grabbed his drink and walked over to Dany’s table.

“Jon tells me you’re a burlesque performer,” he said, taking a seat across from Dany. “ _That_ must be fun!”

“It’s a blast,” she half-heartedly agreed.

“What’s your gimmick?”

“She’s a _dragon_ ,” Jon interjected as he took a seat between them, almost bragging on her behalf. “She even breathes fire.”

“Don’t give me too much credit,” Dany laughed. “That’s just a trick.”

Oberyn leaned forward, arms folded and eyes narrow. “And what about Jon?”

Taken aback, she lifted a brow and squared her shoulders. “If you’re asking whether or not I expect to be paid afterward, the answer is no. I don’t hustle.”

Jon lifted a hand to rub his forehead in embarrassment. Oberyn, meanwhile, looking satisfied with her answer, relaxed and leaned back in his chair.

“As for _Jon_ ,” she continued, pausing long enough to run her tongue over her top lip, “I wanted him the moment I saw him in the audience.”

Though he already knew that was _technically_ true, hearing it spoken aloud flustered Jon all over again. Dany was the kind of girl that guys like him could only dream about taking home. _Then again_... the night so far felt an awful lot like a dream, in a way. The sort of dream where you’ve got to piss like a racehorse and just can’t find a _fucking bathroom_...

Oberyn folded his arms, looking rather self-satisfied with a wide grin. “You’re welcome,” he said to Jon.

Dany’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry?”

“He gave me the flyer for your show,” Jon explained.

“I told him he needed to grab life by the tits,” Oberyn laughed. “But I never expected, _well_ ,” he paused to gesture broadly at Dany. “Just look at you!”

Briefly, she glanced down at herself, then up at Jon in confusion. He shrugged apologetically, palming his face as Oberyn continued to embarrass him.

“So, what’s your type?”

“It... varies.”

“They’re not all like our Jonno, then?”

Dany smirked, throwing Jon a brief glance before answering, “Well, I did date this singer once...”

“I bet you broke their heart…”

She shrugged dismissively, “I wouldn’t exactly say th-”

“Be careful with a musician’s heart,” Oberyn interrupted, frowning. “We’re fragile.”

Something about his comment seemed to agitate her—or maybe she was simply done being interrogated. Jon couldn’t blame her. Up until now, Dany had displayed the patience of a saint, enduring the quirks of his cousin, his dog, his roommate, his mentor, and hells, even _him_. Jon had never had a one-night stand before—and had he known how much trouble it would be, he might’ve even turned her down on principle.

“ _So…_ ” she began, sidestepping Oberyn’s presumptive comment, “Mind if Jon and I use your place to fool around?”

Jon cleared his throat in an attempt to cut the awkward tension.

Oberyn put the shot glass to his lips, downing the alcohol in a couple of gulps. He set the glass down on the table and stood, gesturing for the pair to follow him outside.

. . .

“My apartment’s just up on Rhaenys’ Hill. Would you mind using the sofa? I feel a little weird about the bed.”

Oberyn stopped in his tracks, awaiting a confirmation. Jon and Dany exchanged a quick glance before nodding in agreement. Satisfied with their answer, he began again, leading the way.

“It’s good you two are coming over. My place hasn’t seen any action for two weeks. How long do you expect this might take? I could let you in and maybe go out for a couple of hours. To tell you the truth, I wanted to get out of the house tonight.”

“How come?” Dany asked.

“I just left my partner.”

“Sorry…”

“No, no. I don’t need any sympathy.”

“You never said what happened,” Jon said.

“Well, technically she left me. We were arguing and I told her I wanted her to just go. I didn’t think she’d actually do it! I mean, we argue all the time. It’s our _thing_ ,” he ranted. “Seven years. I’m single for the first time in _seven years!_ Gods, I want her back. No I don’t, what am I saying? Enough about her!” Oberyn stopped to wipe the frown from his face. “Anyway,” he began again, “I’m glad to see you took my advice to heart, Jon.”

“Me too.” When he glanced to his side, he caught Dany wearing her usual smirk as she eyed him.

The trio came to a halt at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn as cars whipped by, rippling Dany’s coat. Jon kept his eyes on her as a small crowd gathered in wait. She looked so cold, standing there rubbing her arms.

“In life, you miss every shot you don’t take,” Oberyn continued, staring off into the distance.

And he was right.

Dany’s arm fell to her side, and just as Jon worked up the nerve to take her hand in his, the crowd moved forward to cross the street, cutting him off from her.

He looked up upon hearing a sudden gasp, recognizing Oberyn’s ex, Ellaria, crossing the street and heading straight toward them.

“I can’t believe it. Sorry, Jon,” he said, putting his arm around Dany’s shoulder and striking a nonchalant pose. “She’s cuter.”

“Wait, what?” Dany asked.

“It’s my ex,” he whispered, eyes flitting up to the sky. “Gods, _please_ let her see me.”

His prayers were answered seconds later when Ellaria’s face contorted into a look of horror upon spotting her ex with a new girl on his arm. Dany played along, touching his chest and laughing at nothing right along with him.

Ellaria slowed, hoping to catch his attention. And when she didn’t, she spoke up. “Oberyn?”

“Oh, hi.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Really great,” he replied, looking squarely at Dany.

Ellaria waited a moment, perhaps hoping he’d inquire about her, too. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt…”

“No! You’re not.”

“It’s nice to see you,” she said, big brown eyes full of emotion. “I’d like to talk to you sometime.”

Oberyn took a deep breath. When no words came, Dany took the initiative, extending her hand for a shake.

“Hi. I’m Dany,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Ellaria answered, eyeing the blonde up and down. “Are you two... together?”

“Me? With _her_? No!” Oberyn shoved Dany off of him.

“I’ve tried it all,” Dany falsely confessed. “And I mean _everything_. But I’m afraid his heart was already spoken for long before I got here.”

Realizing Dany was talking about _her_ , Ellaria stepped forward, throwing her arms around Oberyn in a dramatic embrace.

“We should talk,” she begged, her words muffled against Oberyn’s neck as they hugged. “Can I come over?”

Just as he began to nod, Oberyn stopped himself, peeling his body from Ellaria’s as he turned to Jon, his face full of remorse.

He and Dany exchanged a quick nod, already in agreement. “It’s okay,” she conceded on Jon’s behalf. “Talk. Work it out.”

The ex-lovers continued on their way alone, crossing the street with their arms around each other’s waists. Jon’s eyes wandered to Dany, noticing the tenderness in her gaze as she watched them.

“That was nice what you did.”

She only shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”

The proud smile on her face claimed otherwise, though. Jon couldn’t help but match it as he looked into her eyes. They might have been back at square one, but as she took his hand in hers, he couldn’t help but feel thankful for each and every hiccup that led to that exact moment.

“C’mon,” she said, playfully yanking his arm and leading him down the street.

As they walked hand in hand, Dany inquired about Jon’s life, particularly curious to learn more about Oberyn and his strange relationship with Jon—as well as what on earth led to the man’s unorthodox advice that had ultimately merged their paths tonight. Upon learning that his writer’s block is what brought him stageside to her performance, she seemed determined to help inspire him.

After a couple of blocks, they finally reached her intended destination, its name in giant glowing letters above the door— _Lapsus_. He wasn’t sure why she brought him to a nightclub, but he was grateful that she didn’t want to let go of his company just yet.

Bypassing the long line of people awaiting entry, Dany headed straight to the front. The bouncer lit up in recognition.

She took Jon’s hand and declared, “He’s with me.”

The man unhooked the rope and moved aside to let the pair pass through.

“Don’t we need our hands stamped or something?”

“Nah,” she shrugged.

Once inside, the music struck Jon in full, the bassline reverberating all throughout his chest as Dany led them down into the pit. Bright strobes flashed like lightning against the dark sea of moving bodies. Jon wrestled with his apprehension as he followed after her, though there was no denying the tiny spark of excitement as they finally delved into the crowd.

Upon letting go of him, Dany peeled off her coat and tossed it on a nearby couch, her bag safely hidden underneath it. Her hands were on him next, unbuttoning his cumbersome dress shirt. Feeling a little self-conscious, he stopped her.

“Aren’t you hot?”

“No,” he lied. “I’m fine.”

Dany let it be, grabbing him by the hand instead and pulling him further into the crowd. Just when the pair finally settled into a natural rhythm, a brunette crashed right into Dany, breaking them apart.

“ _Daaaaaaany!_ ” she wailed in a drunken slur. “Where have you been? You fucking tease, you promised me you’d call meee!”

“Marg, _please_ ,” Dany laughed, shrugging the other girl off her arm. She turned towards Jon again, lending him her full attention. “Want a drink?”

“Aye, why not,” he agreed, if only to get away from this ‘Marg’ girl.

She led him to the bar, easily grabbing the bartender’s attention with a wave. Moments later, they had a pair of matching cocktails in hand. Jon looked around after they clinked their glasses together, taking stock of just how many pairs of eyes were on Dany already. Most notably, a tall guy with blue hair glaring daggers at her as they made their way back to the dancefloor. If the stranger’s stare was any indication, they had a history. Dany either didn’t notice or chose to pay him no mind.

She moved confidently amidst the plethora of sweating bodies—unfazed even as another man passed by them, deliberately brushing against her body, his face so close to hers they could’ve kissed.

“Crowded, isn’t it?” he asked, his words accompanied by a forced laugh. Already, he could feel his initial excitement waning.

At least until Dany glided over, wiping any trace of doubt from his mind by pressing herself against him. With her body so close, his shirt felt like an unnecessary barrier. After unbuttoning it about halfway with his free hand, she helped him pull it over his head. Jon tucked what he could of it into his back pocket—hoping his undershirt wasn’t too wet with sweat.

If it was, though, Dany didn’t seem to mind, her hand roaming freely over his chest and arms as they danced. Hips glued together, she began to grind against him, giving him only a small taste of what it was she had in mind.

When his glasses began to fog, she reached up to remove them, hanging them on the front of his undershirt. Everything around them blurred at once, all except Dany. And her eyes were alight with lust—a brilliant amethyst appearing at turns both dark and bright in the flashing lights.

When his eyes drifted to her lips, it suddenly struck Jon that in all the hours they’d spent together, they had yet to kiss. Just inches away from his mouth, she seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, her lips parting in anticipation as he leaned in...

A body came barreling between them from out of nowhere, sending some of their alcohol splashing to the floor—the brunette had returned, nearly yanking Dany away from him. Jon had to bite his tongue not to scream in frustration.

The intruder seemed even more drunk this time, rubbing her body against Dany’s. With a patient smile plastered on her face, Dany gently disentangled the other girl from around her neck and helped her stand upright as she wobbled on her feet.

“Can I help?” Jon asked, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder to help steady her.

With a glare, the brunette shook him off, possessively throwing her arms around Dany and pointedly ignoring him.

“Let’s get you some water,” Dany sighed.

Suddenly feeling like a third wheel, he decided to give her a few minutes to handle the situation. After putting his glasses back on, he beelined for the toilet, discarding his empty glass on a nearby table.

Luckily, there was no line. Yet when Jon entered the restroom, someone rushed in just behind him. He turned to see the blue-haired man from the bar, locking the door behind them.

 _Great_. Clearly, the guy had a motive in trapping them both inside. Jon could only guess as to what it was, but he knew one thing for certain—it had something to do with Dany.

“So, Dany, eh? Is she your girlfriend or just a fuck?” he bluntly asked. Jon tensed at the prospect of an unwanted confrontation.

“I don’t know what we are,” he answered truthfully.

“You look like a nice boy. As a nice guy, myself, I feel it’s my duty to issue a warning about her.”

“About Dany?”

“She’s a no-good, heartless cock-tease of a cunt,” he spat. “Don’t get me wrong. She’s gorgeous, charming. Perfect tits. And I mean _perfect_ tits...” He gestured wildly in front of his chest to punctuate his statement. Jon rolled his eyes. And when he realized the guy wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, he went on to use the urinal anyway, despite the unwelcome company.

“I remember when I first met her. I was on the train headed home and she was sitting across from me, sleeping. Or at least, _pretending_ to sleep. Even though I could tell she was faking, I went along with it,” he explained. “Once we started talking, she feeds me this line about some guy she lives with and insists we go back to my place. Now, I don’t normally bring strange women back home, but who was I to turn her down?”

Noticing the glaring similarities between their respective experiences, Jon felt a little sick to his stomach, dreading to hear where the story headed next.

“Anyway,” he continued, pacing around, “Once we got back to my apartment—she threw me down and tore off all my clothes, and-”

They were interrupted by someone pounding impatiently on the door. The guy turned to the noise to shout, “ _Will you hold on one gods-damned minute?!_ ” He turned back to Jon. “ _Fuck!_ Where was I?”

“She threw you on the bed, tore off all your clothes…”

“Right, right,” he said. “So I’m taking her from behind…”

Jon cleared his throat, zipping himself up.

“Next thing I know, I’m falling backwards onto the floor—she pushed me, knocked the wind right out of me. To add insult to injury, she crushes my phone before running out the door! Left me there naked, gasping for air. _Poof!_ Gone!”

Jon wanted nothing more than to give Dany the benefit of the doubt—but the reality was that he didn’t actually know her at all.

“Am I bitter? _Absolutely_. Let’s face it. You’re just another number on a dirty cocktail napkin shoved down her panties.” He threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Do what you will. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Satisfied with his rant, the blue-haired guy finally unlocked the door and stormed out of the bathroom. Jon finished washing his hands, feeling disconcerted after the weird encounter, trying to remind himself that it was only one side of the story.

He scanned the dancefloor for Dany’s silver hair—the unusual color making her easily recognizable even from a distance. Just as he approached her, he saw that the brunette was still wrapped tightly around her, their lips locked together in an unmistakable kiss.

Jon’s stomach sank at the sight. Gulping down the knot of dread in his throat, he turned and headed straight for the exit, wanting nothing more than to disappear. He couldn’t get away fast enough.

. . .

Everyone in Jon’s life had always reproached him for his tendency to sulk. Even his mother accused him of _souring his blood_ , whatever that meant. Jon was aware of the truth in this, but right now he figured not even Lyanna would blame him for feeling absolutely _miserable_.

He sat on the cold floor just outside his apartment, not even bothering to find a better place to wait for Theon and Ros to finish rutting like animals. The paper-thin door did little to muffle the grunts and moans, their blatant ecstasy only cementing his bitterness.

So lost he was in his brooding, Jon hadn’t even heard the sound of her footsteps, shocked when he discovered Dany standing right in front of him. “Hey,” she said.

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Hi.”

“Why are you sitting in the hall?”

He shrugged. “Why’d you come back?”

“You’re upset,” Dany said instead of answering his question.

“No,” he lied. “I’m not upset.”

She took a step closer to him, her hand fidgeting idly around her thigh. “We shouldn’t have gone there.”

“It was good we went. Really. And you didn’t need to come back.”

“Can we go in and talk?”

He shook his head. “They’re still going at it. So you should probably just go home.”

“I can’t,” she admitted with an apologetic wince. “I think I left my keys in your apartment.”

 _Of course_ , he internally bemoaned. He should have known her reappearance had nothing to do with _him_.

“I’ll knock.”

He stood and rapped his knuckles against the door, the squeaking of the bed coming to an abrupt stop, Ghost replacing the noise with a few barks in warning. “Who is it?” came Theon’s voice from the other side.

“It’s Jon.”

“We’re not finished!” he yelled.

“Dany left her keys inside.”

After a prolonged moment of awkward silence, the door burst open to reveal a sweaty and disheveled Theon on the other side. Luckily, he had at least put on his underwear. “Where?”

“Maybe by the bed?” Dany suggested.

“Why don’t you guys come in and look?” Ros called.

Theon threw his girlfriend an incredulous look over his shoulder before turning back to Jon, fixing him with a glare. “You’re not coming in,” he insisted.

“Theon, come _on_. She can’t go home unless she finds her keys!” he huffed, raising his voice in exasperation.

Theon sighed, pointing a finger at Jon and then Dany. “All right, but both of you better be gone by the time I’m out of the bathroom.” With that said, he stormed off, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

“Hey again, Jon.” Ros smiled from the bed, wearing just a sheet wrapped around her body.

“...Hi,” he replied, feeling suddenly more awkward as his dog rushed up to greet him with a slobbery lick that he promptly wiped away.

“Lay down, boy,” he commanded.

Wasting no time at all, Jon started rummaging around the room. _We should really tidy up around here_ , he thought, feeling a small sting of embarrassment as he watched Dany sift through the clutter.

Ros gestured between the two of them. “Did you two just meet tonight?” she asked.

“Aye,” he nodded. “We did.”

“And you want to fuck each other?”

Jon ignored the question, rifling through his blanket for the keys, instead.

“Something like that, yeah,” Dany finally said, sounding quite dejected.

Ros studied her for a moment before turning back to Jon. “How do you know you can trust this girl, Jon? You don’t really know a thing about her.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t know her at all.”

“Anonymous sex…” Ros trailed off. “Pretty hot though, isn’t it?”

Jon let out an exasperated sigh. His night had already gone to hell, he didn’t need Ros adding insult to injury. What he wanted to say was, _‘How the fuck would I know?’_ Instead, he simply pleaded, “Can we just look for the keys?”

Nonetheless, she continued, “That’s the thing about anonymous sex. You can say you’re just about anyone and your partner can’t disagree.”

Dany threw her hands up defensively. “Do you want to see ID?”

Jon did his best to avoid the question and focus on his search.

“Well, I do!” Ros said.

After pulling out her wallet, Dany marched it to the bedside for inspection.

Ros perused her information, announcing after a moment, “Her name is Daenerys.”

“Dany for short,” she quickly clarified.

Jon ignored the exchange. It wasn’t his business, not really.

“You know, when you learn too much about a person, it can be hard to see them sexually. But... when you know someone only in a sexual way, it’s hard to think of them as a person…”

Dany furrowed her brow, seemingly unsure what to make of the strange comment. She held her palm out, asking, “Can I have my wallet back?”

“I want to be a sex counselor someday,” Ros explained with a dreamy sigh.

“That’s great,” Dany half-heartedly replied, extending her hand further until, finally, Ros relinquished her wallet.

“Are you sure you left your keys?” Jon asked. “I don’t see them anywhere.”

“No, I’m not sure,” Dany said. “Can you stand still for a second and let me talk?”

“Are you guys done yet?!” yelled Theon from the bathroom.

“We’re looking!” Jon snapped.

“Someone sure is having a bad night,” Ros said, her tone condescending enough to irk Jon even further. “Why are you so upset, Jon?” she urged.

“I’m not upset.”

“ _Jon…_ ”

“Okay!” he shouted, throwing his hands up. “Aye, I’m upset.”

“I’m sorry,” Dany said. “We never should’ve gone to that club.”

The mere mention of _‘the club’_ brought forth the unwanted memory of someone _else_ kissing Dany. The same someone who happened to break them apart just as he finally worked up the courage to kiss her, himself.

“You were _kissing_ her,” he blurted.

She pressed her lips together, nodding in understanding. “Margaery’s this girl I used to date,” she softly explained, taking a couple steps towards him. “And actually she was kissing _me_ , but technically you’re right, and I’m sorry. It’s just—I don’t usually go there with anybody. Especially not somebody that I li-” She stopped abruptly, swallowing whatever words she was about to say. “I don’t know what’s going on tonight,” she admitted after a moment. “I don’t know how you feel about me.”

The way she looked at him then was almost paralyzing, as if searching his eyes for the truth.

“Now would be a good time for you to verbalize your feelings, Jon,” Ros prodded.

 _If only it were that easy_ , he thought, hesitating under Dany’s insistent gaze. Against all odds, she had come back. For a while, he was convinced he’d never see her again. Yet here she stood in front of him, expecting to learn how he felt about her.

All night, Jon had tried his best to play it cool. Just like Dany. But _gods_ , after spending all that time together, he knew for certain he wasn’t _that_. The _truth_... was that it’s hard to play it cool when you’re falling.

“Why did you just leave? Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Jon?!” Theon called again from the bathroom.

“I pay rent here too!” he shouted. Between Theon and Ros, Jon could barely keep a single thought in his head, let alone have a full-on confrontation in front of them.

“Dany deserves to know why you left without telling her,” Ros said, set on acting the part of a counselor.

“I left because of what the blue-haired guy in the bathroom said,” he finally confessed.

“The what?” Ros blinked.

“Here we go.” Dany rolled her eyes. “And what did he say?”

“He said _a lot_. But mostly that tonight was a whole routine for you.” He mocked, “ _‘Oh look at me, I’m sleeping on the subway’-_ ”

“I was tired!” she argued. “You didn’t have to _stare_.”

_“‘Oh, we can’t go back to my place because of this man I live with…’”_

“I don’t feel comfortable bringing guys back to my place! And so what? I was trying to pick you up!”

“Well, it worked!” Ros enthusiastically piped in.

Jon groaned, rubbing his temples.

“Why is that a problem? And so _what_ if I have just the one move, that’s one more than you. If I’d left it up to you, we never would’ve spoken!”

“Probably not,” he agreed. “But it would’ve been for the best. I’m sure you would just dump me like you dumped that singer.”

“ _You’re_ the one who left,” Dany reminded him, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why were you even listening to Daario, anyway?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. He locked me in the bathroom with him.”

“We slept together one time,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Oh, he mentioned _that_.”

“Did he also happen to mention that he _filmed_ it?”

“Oh, _fuck!_ ” Ros’ voice was tinged with outraged disbelief.

Jon, however, _could_ believe it. The guy was a total creep.

“Yeah,” Dany agreed, standing straighter. “Without telling me. He seemed distracted in the middle of—well. _You know_. I looked over my shoulder and saw that he was recording the whole thing on his phone. I pushed him off of me and I got the _fuck_ out of there.”

“He... didn’t tell me that part,” Jon muttered.

She folded her arms. “How convenient.”

“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” he said, forcing the words through the knot in his throat. “We’ve officially exhausted all of our options. The night should’ve ended already, and if we’re being honest, we should’ve given up trying to find a place to get off _hours_ ago.”

Taken aback, Dany blinked.

Even Ros had managed to shut up for once as an awkward silence fell over the room.

“Was that all we were doing?” she asked, her lips trembling as she processed his words.

Jon couldn’t bring himself to speak, though the tears in his eyes told the truth. He hated every stupid word that had come out of his mouth—feeling too stubborn and vulnerable to just tell her how he _really_ felt. The truth was that he was terrified of just how much he liked her and how fast it happened, ashamed that it was so much easier for him to believe horrible lies about her than to believe she might just feel the same way about him, too.

“And here I thought there was something more going on between us tonight.” Her voice seemed to crack a little, but she kept her composure.

She walked toward the door, swinging it open and pausing. “Oh, and... for the record,” she added, “That singer? Dumped _me_.”

The door slammed behind her.

Jon’s eyes fell closed. _Fuck_.

He dropped onto his bed, paying no mind to Theon’s unbridled irritation as he came storming out of the bathroom or to Ghost’s pitiful whines. It was just noise. He laid there, blinking away the sting of tears, only snapping from his stupor when Ros threw something at him. His reflexes kicked in before he could fully realize what had happened, and he found Dany’s keys in his hands.

On his feet in an instant, Jon quickly scampered out of the apartment and down the stairs. He broke into a jog to catch up with her, running in the direction of the nearest subway station. Just as he started to panic, wondering whether he’d just missed her—a flash of silver caught his eye.

“Wait! Dany!”

She stopped halfway down the stairwell, standing still for a brief moment before finally turning to face him. The sight of her glassy eyes startled him.

“Ros found your keys,” he said, dangling them in his hand.

Unsure what he had even expected, Dany just stared at him. Afraid to approach her, Jon tossed her keys, relieved when she caught them with both hands.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

It wasn’t just lyrics that Jon couldn’t muster, apparently, as a glaring silence stretched between them—he owed her an apology, but no matter how much he racked his brain, he just couldn’t find the right words. And after giving him ample opportunity to figure it out, Dany gave up and continued down the stairs, disappearing around a corner.

Panicked, he blurted out the first thing he could think of.

“Are you hungry?”

Below, he could hear the chime of train doors opening and closing, the roar of another as it sped down the rails. There was no sign of her.

Just as he was about to face the long walk of shame back to his apartment—his heart heavy as a stone in his chest—soft footsteps climbed the stairs. He sighed in relief as she appeared in front of him again, a tentative smile on her face.

. . .

“Isn’t it just _crazy?_ ” Sansa’s voice boomed, loud enough to drill a hole in his eardrums. “I mean, what are the chances we should run into each other here? Of all the places in King’s Landing!” She enthusiastically clapped her hands, letting out a shrill squeal.

“It’s literally the only place open at this hour in Flea Bottom, Sansa,” Jon gritted back.

As it was just after four in the morning, he and Dany had inevitably ended up at The Crossroads. The downside was that, as the only diner open in the middle of the night, it was usually packed on the weekends.

Just as the pair managed to snag the last empty table, Sansa and Jeyne had barged inside and invited themselves to the open seats. Squeezed in the center of the half-circle booth, Dany sat sandwiched between him and Sansa, all semblance of quiet annihilated by his cousin’s post-performance high.

“All things considered, the show went well for a premiere! I mean, we had a few technical issues…” Jon looked down as Sansa spoke, noticing Dany’s hand resting atop her thigh. She pulled away before he could inch closer.

“I know I shouldn’t be the one to say it, but that stagehand hasn’t got a clue how to do his job.”

“Podrick?” Jeyne asked.

“That’s the one,” his cousin confirmed, reaching across the table to steal one of Jon’s fries, having already polished off her own portion.

Jon stole a glance of Dany, who was politely nodding along with his cousin’s story.

“Anyway,” Sansa said, chewing, “The lighting was a disaster and the acoustics were… well, _debatable_. You should have seen the costumes, though. They were perfect. So much detail! And far be it from me to brag, but I did a damn good job during the second act, even though-”

“ _Sansa_ ,” Jon exhaled, his patience wearing thin. He still had yet to apologize to Dany, and he needed to change that—which was impossible to do with the added company. “Can we save the recap for another time? _Daytime_ , maybe?” He lifted a hand to rub his temple. With all the stress he’d endured in one night, it was a miracle that he hadn’t already developed a headache, but Sansa seemed quite determined to change that. “And could you take the volume down a notch?”

Jon caught Dany’s subtle smirk and smiled in response. She was the night’s only saving grace, somehow sticking around despite one obstacle after another. Making a more deliberate attempt to hold her hand, Jon snaked his fingers between hers, almost shocked when she gave him a tender squeeze in return.

“Well-” Sansa began, squinting at him, “I wouldn’t need to give a recap at all if you had just come to the damned performance like you promised you would.”

“I’m sorry, Sansa,” he said, cringing at himself. “Time got away from me and I fucked up.”

Her back stiffened at his words. “Must be nice,” she huffed, folding and unfolding a paper napkin on the table, growing increasingly more aggressive towards the poor object. “Gallivanting around town all night with her, distracted from your _actual_ commitments.”

Sansa threw a glance at Dany then, the nature of which Jon couldn’t quite decipher. Her attitude unnerved him. She had always reproached him for never trying to date, yet now that he had _finally_ found someone he liked, she wanted to hold it against him? It was only then he recognized the same bitterness in her that had plagued him just hours ago. It was the bitterness of jealousy.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so concerned with _my_ gallivanting if you got a girlfriend of your own,” he blurted, wincing almost immediately at how harsh his words sounded.

Beside her, Jeyne’s eyes widened, looking aghast on her friend’s behalf. Or... _Uh oh_ , he thought. _Shocked?_

Sansa’s face morphed from a pale mask of incredulity to red anger as she stood. “How _dare_ you!” she shouted.

A hush fell over the table and at least a dozen patrons turned to stare, startled by the sudden outburst. Noticing she’d captured the attention of almost the entire diner, Sansa slapped a hand over her mouth and ran straight for the exit.

“Ahh, _fuck_ ,” he muttered, turning to give Dany an apologetic shrug before standing up to chase after his cousin.

He found Sansa pouting just outside, back facing him. Carefully, he approached her.

“I’m an asshole,” he said.

Sansa turned, cheeks tinged pink and eyes swimming in unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry, Sansa. I didn’t know... that Jeyne didn’t know,” he tried to explain. “I wouldn’t have said-”

“I didn’t know that _you_ knew,” she confessed, letting go of a heavy exhale through her nose as she looked away.

“ _Hey_ ,” Jon said, physically moving into her line of vision and opening his arms for a hug. “Come here.”

Sansa tentatively wrapped her arms around him.

“I shouldn’t have snapped,” she sniffed against his chest. “But it’s scary, you know? You never know who will look at you differently…”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me, kid,” he said, giving her a tight squeeze. “To me, you’ll always be my annoying cousin Sansa.”

“Oh, _shut up_ ,” she laughed, playfully pushing him off of her.

Jon’s expression turned serious as he looked into her eyes. “I’ll be more mindful from now on,” he promised. “About everything.”

Sansa nodded, wiping the last of her tears away.

“I really am sorry I missed the performance. It sounds like you crushed it tonight.”

“Oh, I certainly did,” she confirmed with a grin. “But considering I ruined your date, let’s just call it even?”

“Deal.”

“I have every intention of crushing it tomorrow night, too, you know. So you should come. You could even make a date of it with your girlfriend! I’ll add you both to the comp list.”

Jon flushed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Sansa raised a skeptical brow, nodding toward the diner’s big picture window, behind which Dany could be seen seated patiently inside, alone. “Does _she_ know that?”

Just then, Jeyne popped out of the door, keeping her steps cautious and slow as she approached them. The girl gave Jon a well-deserved glare before turning to his cousin. “Let’s go home.”

Sansa nodded. And just as she turned to follow Jeyne, she stopped. “Shoot. How much do I owe you for the fries?”

Before he could even wager a guess, Jeyne spoke up, “Dany took care of it.”

This time Sansa raised _both_ eyebrows, wearing a smug _‘I told you so’_ sort of smirk.

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he promised. And he meant it.

“You better, you bastard,” she replied, although there was no sting in her tone.

He watched his cousin walk away, waving goodbye when she turned to look back. After taking a deep breath, he went back inside the diner, where Dany was sitting alone, patiently twiddling her thumbs under the table and looking, by now, some combination of bored and sleepy. Admittedly, he was feeling a bit tired, too.

Jon sank into the booth right beside her.

“Tonight’s been a mess.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” she laughed.

“A pleasant mess, all things considered.”

“That too,” she agreed.

And for a moment, they said nothing at all, simply staring into each other’s eyes. The sheer weight of her gaze flustered him, though perhaps it was the kind of thing he’d grow used to with time. And the way she looked at him now hinted that she was still willing to grant him exactly that.

“Thank you,” he abruptly said, “For footing the bill. You didn’t have to do that, I would’ve paid.”

“I know,” she smiled, grabbing his hand under the table. “You can pay next time.”

Jon let out a sigh, alleviated from the pressure of having to ask for a second date. “And thank you,” he repeated, briefly looking away from her. “For giving me another chance.”

She shrugged and gave his fingers a squeeze.

He met her eyes. “Might I ask why you bothered?”

“I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But then I thought about how I might feel seeing you kiss someone else after getting cornered by one of your past hook-ups, and, _well_. Can’t say I’d have fared much better.”

Jon let out an awkward sputter of laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, lucky for you, I haven’t had many hook-ups.”

Dany smiled. And this time, it was she who looked away. “You know, I _would’ve_ had you back to my place, but-”

“Oh, that’s all right,” he quickly interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even worry about it.”

She waited until he met her eyes again. “That guy I live with? He’s my brother,” she explained. “I live at home.”

The pair shared a laugh as the waitress approached. Giving them a dirty look all the while, she slammed a small slip on the table. “Your _receipt_ ,” she grumbled, hinting she’d like them to leave, still clearly annoyed about the scene Sansa had made just a few minutes ago.

“Shall we?” Jon said, scooting out from the booth.

Dany nodded, following him towards the exit.

Outside, the air was thin and chilly. They stood together under a purple predawn sky, the sun hiding just below the eastern horizon. Jon took her hand again, a smile spreading on his face when she interlaced her fingers with his. “Walk with me?” he asked. It would still be a bit before the trains resumed service, and he didn’t want her to cross the city alone at such an hour. But mostly, he didn’t want to let go of her just yet.

Luckily, she seemed happy to follow him as they strolled, hand in hand, towards the waterfront.

“Hey!” she beamed at him after a few minutes of companionable silence. “We’re alone!”

Jon laughed. “Aye, finally.”

“ _Enter you_ ,” she sang, her voice echoing throughout the empty alleys. “ _Voila it’s showtime! I hear the music of a-_ ”

“ _Dance and a dum-ditty_ ,” Jon sang along with her.

“ _Enter you-_ ”

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he stopped her. “Please don’t sing it,” he pleaded. “Those aren’t even the right lyrics.”

“But I like it!” she pouted. “It’s a good song.”

“You’re just being polite.”

“I mean it, Jon,” she said. “And speaking of your lyrics—did you end up finding any inspiration in all the ugly drama tonight?”

He laughed. “Who knows? Lyrics have been the furthest thing from my mind.”

Dany’s smile grew into a teasing smirk. She pulled lightly on his arm until he stopped and turned to face her completely. “And what’s the nearest?”

She stood before him, hair a bit disheveled, makeup smeared, eyes tired but glimmering with desire and, dare he think it, affection. She had never looked more beautiful than in that moment, the honesty in her eyes making his heart race faster than any sexy number could.

Jon’s hand rose to cup her cheek, a thumb brushing over her skin to savor the moment they’ve been building to all night. There was nothing left to interrupt them now, not even their own silly insecurities. So he pulled her closer to him, and finally— _finally!_ —their mouths melted together in a kiss, her lips even softer than he’d imagined.

An arm snaked around her waist to pull her closer, the other dipping into her silky hair to cradle her head. He groaned in relief as her lips parted, their tongues meeting in an unhurried dance. The sensation of being wrapped up in each other felt so _right_ he could weep.

When they broke the kiss, ultimately needing to breathe, Dany gifted him with the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

“I’m happy tonight turned out the way it did,” she murmured, so close that her warm breath tickled his skin.

“You are?”

“We got the hard part over with,” Dany said, fiddling with the buttons of his collar.

She looked so uncharacteristically coy, it made for an adorable sight. “But what about the sex?” he couldn’t help but tease her, a devilish grin on his face.

“ _Jon!_ ” she gasped in mock outrage, playfully slapping his chest. “Just what kind of girl do you think I am?”

“One I haven’t kissed nearly enough,” he rebutted, tightening his grip around Dany’s slim form before diving in for another taste.

Jon reluctantly let go of her after a short walk to the nearest station, feet cemented to the ground until she was officially out of sight and on her way back home.

He slid his hands into his pockets, almost bouncing with energy despite having gotten zero sleep. Every challenge they had faced, every interruption... all of it led to the most beautiful moment. He wouldn’t have traded tonight for anything in the world.

“ _Enter you,_ ” he began to softly sing as he walked down the street, “ _Voila, it’s showtime! You brought the house down with a dance and a dum-ditty…_ ”

He bobbed his head, the piano melody playing clearly in his mind.

“ _Enter you... In less than no time,_ ” he paused to grin. The elusive lyrics _finally_ revealed themselves as the first rays of sunlight fell over him. “ _This ugly drama has become pretty..._ ”

. . .

_**One year later...** _

“ _Up went the curtain! My lines spelled wrong... Intermission seemed so far away!_ ”

Sansa’s skirt swished around her feet as she spun across the stage, belting the very song they’d practiced endlessly in his old apartment. Jon couldn’t help himself from peeking out from behind the curtain, stealing discreet peeks of the audience at their big debut.

“ _Applause uncertain, the scene’s too long,_ ” she sang. That was when he spotted Dany in the crowd, mouthing every word in sync. “ _Life was like an uninspiring play! But... now you’re here, we meet stage center…_ ”

The prince stepped forward, taking Sansa by the hand. “ _I thought my storyline was through, then from the blue…_ ” He led her into a spin, pulling her closer. The pair looked deeply into each other’s eyes, singing the final line of the song in perfect harmony.

“ _Enter you!_ ”

When the music cut, the crowd burst into applause. But it was Jon’s girlfriend who leapt to her feet before anyone else. He pulled the curtain open further when Sansa and her co-star took their bows, meeting her violet eyes from across the stage. Dany wiped her tears away, the pride in her smile palpable.

In the months since their fateful first meeting, Jon’s life had looked completely different—and Dany was the catalyst for change. Oberyn had been right all along—you miss every shot you don’t take. Had Jon not gone out on a limb and taken her home all those nights ago, there was no telling how much longer it would’ve taken to see his musical come to life on stage. And with Dany by his side, he had a constant reminder that, sometimes, setbacks are a blessing in disguise, leading the way to bigger, better, and more beautiful things.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this story, please leave a comment! 😊


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